


my thoughts all stray to you

by wistfulwatcher



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, F/F, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-03-31 16:17:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3984628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wistfulwatcher/pseuds/wistfulwatcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Maybe what she wants is some kind of connection, something still hard and sweaty, but warmer, deeper.</i>
</p><p>takes place about three months post-finale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	my thoughts all stray to you

**Author's Note:**

> Posted on tumblr a while ago, just moving it over here now.

She’s stressed. There are a million and one projects to be completed to get the camp up and running and while she knows he meant well, Sinclair putting her in charge of a team is just. Well, it’s not her thing. She can lead and she can delegate but at the end of the day her favorite part of being a mech engineer is actually doing the work. **  
**

So it’s pretty much been all work and no play and she kind of can’t take it anymore. She’s wound up and in the past whenever she’d get like this she’d do a little stress relief with Finn. (The thought of him still stings, but less each day.)

Raven and Wick aren’t exactly on the best of terms at the moment—she’s just not interested in a relationship with him, at least not yet—and with the way Bellamy has been lately it would either be too much or not enough with him, and she’s in no position to handle the emotional landmine that could very well explode from him any day now.

With a groan she drops down to her bed, leans back and toes off her boots until they land to the floor with a thud. Her chest is rising high with each breath and she tries to breathe out through her nose, pushes her hair back from her face and licks her lips.

Shifting her hips on the bed, she settles in a bit, lets her hands drop down to rest on the hard line of her hip bones, and lets her fingers brush against the skin bared there. It feels good, does a little to soothe the way everything seems to be vibrating on her.

She thinks a hot shower or a run would be equally effective at this point, but the shower situation is one of her many uncompleted tasks and she just doesn’t have the energy required to get the kind of workout that would do her good.

Her eyes flutter closed and she strokes along the gentle curve of her belly, dips against the line of her jeans and arches her back to settle herself, dropping her shoulders. This isn’t what she wants, either, it’s not the hard press of hips against her own, of having someone spread beneath her or the right kind of heavy on top of her.

She wants something hard, wants something sticky and sweaty and messy, not the easy orgasm that she can give herself. Then again, best terms or not, she knows she could get that from Wick. From Bellamy, too.

Maybe what she wants is some kind of connection, something still hard and sweaty, but warmer, deeper.

She tugs at the button on her jeans, pops them open and slides her hands below the denim to push them down her legs and off. They land atop her boots, and she presses her fingers over the crotch of her shorts quickly, fleetingly, before sitting herself up. Her tank top follows, and she tugs her hair free from the tight ponytail it seems to be forever in.

Her hair is curled and kinked from drying in the binder, and the ends tickle against her shoulders, her cheeks, and Raven takes a moment to just breathe and feel it against her skin. A shiver runs up her back and then she slips her hair over one shoulder, leans herself back against her pillow and runs her hands over her body.

The smooth skin of her belly jumps at the light touch, and then she wants it harder, curls her fingers in until she can feel her nails lightly scratch there, and a small moan falls from her lips.

It’s good, but not enough, and she curls herself to the side, runs her hand over the dip of her waist, and shudders. She hasn’t had sex since Wick months ago, and the only touch she feels this day is her own or Abby, when the other woman checks in on her. She’s touchy, or at least she is with Raven; a hand on the back when she looks over her shoulder, fingers on her wrist to get her attention. A comforting hand on her waist, sometimes.

Raven’s breath catches at the thought, and oh god,  _connection_. She certainly does have that with Abby. She pauses in her movements, nails stilled on her waist, and she feels a small rush of arousal through her body at the thought. The other woman is attractive, of course, and Raven can’t say she didn’t think about it, especially back on the Ark.

They’re friends now, closer after Mount Weather. Sharing meals and stories and checking in on one another. Raven bites her lip at the thought of connecting further with her. Of her deep brown eyes that always seem so soft but so knowing, of the gentle smirk she wears—less since Clarke left, of course—and she can’t help but imagine Abby’s hands on her, running over her chest, her back, her legs. Imagine her teasing at the shorts Raven wears before slipping them down and over her ass.

Raven’s heart picks up as she copies the imagined movements, and she is left in her sports bra. She’s slick now, she can feel even before she presses her fingers down to trail through her folds and over her clit once, twice, again and again.

Small sighs are escaping her throat and she curls her free hand over her hip, holds down her own movements as she picks up the pace and she gets wetter, slicker.

Her wrist is cramping and this isn’t enough pressure, isn’t enough anything for her right now. So she leans up and shifts to her knees, spreads her thighs and sinks down on her fingers. She stops gripping her hip and instead pushes her long fingers beneath her bra until it’s pushed up baring her breasts, and she starts to roll and tug at one nipple.

She’s maybe starting to get there, pressure is building slowly, and—

The soft whoosh of the cabin door opens, and over the pounding of her heart Raven hears, “Before you call it a night, Sinclair wanted me to check—”

Abby freezes just a few steps into Raven’s room, and the door whooshes shut behind her. Her cheeks redden immediately, and those brown eyes Raven had been fantasizing about just moments before start to widen.

“I’m so sorry,” she breathes out, and her nostrils flare. Raven isn’t ashamed of her body or of touching it but she is still bared before her friend, and she swallows as she halts her movements.

Abby starts to close her eyes and turn, but Raven catches it. The briefest of moments, Abby’s eyes dropping from her face to her body and, then she has her back to Raven.

And her shoulders are pulled taut. Her hands are clenched into fists at her side. And it could mean nothing, but the way Abby had looked at her, brief as it was, well. It seems like it might be a little bit  _something_.

“I should have knocked,” Abby adds after Raven doesn’t say anything. “I’ll just come back a little later.”

And she isn’t sure why, but the idea of Abby waiting for her to come so that she can talk to her, well, it sends another warm rush of arousal through her body. “Or,” Raven breathes out, and slowly slides her fingers from her core. “You could stay.”

Abby’s back stiffens further, and Raven knows that this is foolish, that this could ruin one of the only stable relationships she has right now. But Abby is so close in front of her in the small Ark cabin, and Raven can see her breathing, can see Abby’s shoulders move with the effort.

“I,” she starts, and her head turns ever so slightly to the side, like she want to look at Raven when she says it. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”

Raven licks her lips, rejection burning in a familiar white-hot heat across her body. She’s so close to keeping her mouth shut, to letting it wash over her like it always does so she can push it down and try and move on.

But Abby is still standing there. Still keeping her fingers in tight fists, and Raven lets her fingers trail over her breast in the smallest sort of confidence boost. “Do you want to stay?”

Abby says nothing, just shifts on her feet, and Raven thinks she’s fighting herself. Thinks that maybe all of the small touches weren’t so small after all. So she puts herself out there, just a little bit, just enough so that she can know, because suddenly she doesn’t think she can live with this regret. “Abby, please.”

“Yes,” Abby breathes out in a rush, and Raven’s hands fall from her body completely.

“So turn around.”

It takes a moment, and Raven isn’t sure Abby won’t leave, won’t decide this really isn’t a good idea and just bail. But that’s not Abby, she doesn’t quit when things get hard, she’s a fighter, and so she turns until she can see Raven, bared before her.

Her lips are parted and she’s breathing heavy, and those brown eyes are the darkest Raven’s ever seen them. But her eyes aren’t moving from Raven’s face, she’s just looking at her, waiting.

“Come here,” Raven says, and her smile is nervous but genuine. Abby does as she says, takes small steps closer and closer and then she is in front of Raven’s bed. In front of Raven’s body.

“Sinclair wanted me to see if you had an ETA on opening up the Ark-wide channel,” she says carefully.

“It’ll be about another day or so.” Abby licks her lips slowly, and her eyes are trained on Raven’s own, still, but she’s swallowing, hard. “Will you touch me?”

Abby hesitates and Raven’s pretty sure she’s going to leave, going to turn around and this will be the end of their whatever they were becoming. But then her hand reaches out, stroke a strand of Raven’s hair back and over a shoulder, and the motion sends a shiver up Raven’s spine.

“More,” Raven breathes, and Abby sets a slightly trembling hand on her shoulder before she lets it trail over her arm, over her forearm and then settles on her bare hip.

And oh god,  _this_ is what she was craving. Someone real and warm and solid against her, but soft and safe, too. She wanted,  _wants_ Abby. “ _More_ ,” she says again, more firmly, and this time Abby looks down from her face, over her breasts bared from the sports bra and down over the plane of her stomach to the slickness pooling between her thighs.

She touches her  _more_ , slides her hand to Raven’s back and presses on her spine and her other hand is suddenly cupping the back of Raven’s neck, firm but gentle. “Oh god,” Raven moans, and she should be ashamed with how wanton she sounds already but she’s not, her climax is far too close to let her feel anything but desire.

“Are you sure?” Abby asks, and when Raven nods she tugs her closer, slides her hands up the curve of Raven’s back and leans down to kiss her deeply. Abby’s mouth is hard, harder than she’d expected but she tastes sweet and when Raven sighs a little, Abby groans right back.

When they part Raven tugs the last bit of clothing over her head to toss to the floor, and then she’s pushing at Abby’s lab coat until it follows the same path. Raven pushes at the hem of Abby’s shirt at the same time she tries to push Abby down beneath her on the bed but Abby just smirks and maneuvers Raven until she is sitting on the edge of the bed.

Abby is leaning over her, hands on either side of Raven’s hips, and her face is so, so close to Raven’s. “How close were you?” she whispers against Raven’s lips.

“Close,” she says and then swallows, her hips moving in search of friction at the memory of where she’d been.

“Hmm,” Abby murmurs, and then she leans back, pulls her shirt over her head and when she just has her bra and jeans on, she kneels slowly to the ground in front of Raven. Her thighs are starting to shake a little, and if Abby doesn’t touch her soon she’s going to have to take matters into her own hands again.

Abby slides her palms up Raven’s thighs, and then back down to hook behind her knees. She tugs once, a little hard, and Raven is bared before her, legs spread and a trickling wetness starting to drip down her skin.

Her movements are achingly slow when she slides one finger through Raven’s folds and brushes against her clit once, just enough to make her jolt at the sensation. “I guess,” Abby smiles mischievously at her from between her legs, eyes glinting, and oh, it’s a good thing Raven didn’t know Abby was like this months ago.

Leaning forward, Abby blows a small bit of air on Raven’s sensitive skin, and when she can’t stay upright, Raven lets her body fall back to the mattress. She hasn’t caught her breath enough to sit up and watch before she can feel Abby’s tongue against her, flat as she laps up most of Raven’s wetness before she circles her tongue over her clit again and again.

“Shit,  _Abby_ ,” Raven moans, and one hand flies to Abby’s hair to tangle in the messy French braid as she bobs her head a little with her movements. Her other hand begins to tease at her breast, tug at her nipple just a bit and she manages to keep most of the curses she thinks in her head.

But then Abby starts to flick her tongue over her clit and she slides two fingers deep into Raven and then a third, stretching her pleasantly. “‘s so good, Abby, oh please,” and she can’t prove it but she thinks she can _feel_ her smirk this time.

Raven is getting closer, closer, and then Abby’s free hand is pressing hard into her waist, her nails are biting in just a bit to her skin and she’s coming. Raven’s breath catches and her back arches and Abby’s fingers slow until she withdraws completely, her tongue moving gently against her.

Raven’s fingers have tightened in Abby’s hair during her climax and when she realizes, she lets go, strokes her hair back before trying to push herself up on her elbows. Her limbs feel boneless but she props herself enough to see Abby leaning back on her heels and wiping her thumb discreetly over her chin and  _fuck_ , Raven might be ready to go again.

Instead she leans up more and more until she can dip down and kiss Abby again. The other woman sighs this time and the rougher streak she’d exhibited is mellowed just a bit. Her kisses are softer and sweeter and yes,  _this_ is what Raven needed, what she wanted.

“Abby,” she whispers, resting her forehead against Abby’s for a moment.

Abby shifts on the floor, leaning her weight off of her knees and Raven isn’t sure if she’s getting up to leave but there is a sudden rush of need that bolts through her. “Stay,” she breathes, and pulls back to see Abby watching her.

Raven isn’t dependent, hasn’t changed that much, but she has accepted that it’s OK to want people, to need people. And right now she wants Abby so badly, again and again.

Abby pushes off from the floor and stands, and Raven looks up at her from her place on the bed. “OK,” Abby says easily, and she smiles before she steps closer to the bed, legs bracketed by Raven’s still-spread knees.

She runs her fingers through Raven’s hair, even messier now with their activities, and Raven leans forward to press hot kisses against Abby’s bare stomach, just in front of her. Her hands slip up Abby’s back and she shivers, sensitive in the cool air, to Raven’s touch, all of it.

“I was supposed to get back to Sinclair after I spoke with you,” Abby tries to tease, but Raven unclasps her bra and sucks her nipple into her mouth, teeth scraping gently against the peak. The last few words are said on a breath, and Raven smirks up as she lets Abby’s flesh free, wet skin making her shiver again.

“He can wait,” Raven sets her hands on Abby’s waist. “This can’t.”


End file.
